


I'm sorry that I said it, I know it might be reckless

by sarahjhutch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, injured!niall, knee injury, the boys are only mentioned really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:27:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjhutch/pseuds/sarahjhutch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabble based on Niall getting hit with a flying shoe at tonights concert in Amsterdam, and tweeting about his injured knee ):</p><p>Zayn takes care of his baby, really, that's it, that's everything, that's all you need to know</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm sorry that I said it, I know it might be reckless

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m fine!”

 

 “Christ Ni, you’re not, you’re _limping.”_ Zayn says, exasperated, and totally, entirely, exhausted.

 

“Fuckin’…no I’m not.” He whines, and straightens up, stumbling a few feet with grace before gasping in pain and bending at the waist to grip his knee tight, desperate to soothe the ache in his knee.

 

“Niall, let me lift you, or help, or somethin’.” Zayn grumbles before putting his arm around Niall’s waist and gently propping his arm over his shoulder, helping him stumble his way to the bed.

 

 “Fuckin’ flying shoes, for fucks sake, motherf-“

 

 “Payno would be at you for your language right now, y’know.” Zayn _tsks._

 

 “Fuck Payno.” He chuckles in response and Niall blushes furiously, sitting up and waving his hands. 

 

“Wait, don’t, you’re not allowed to fuck him.” 

 

“How come?” Zayn mock pouts and fuck, if that isn’t the cutest thing Nialls seen all day. Except it isn’t really, because Zayn smiled at him onstage with his tongue in his cheek, and that ultimately takes the cake, _always._ Zayn and his stupid rare smiles and shit.

 

“Uh…’cause Liam’s straight and…fucking, I don’t know, get me so’more ice, mines melted n’ drippy.” He huffs in frustration and pulls his good knee to his chest, crossing his arms over it.

 

“Yeah, yeah, think of a proper answer while I run down the hall.”

 

 Bless hotels and their abnormally long hallways, gifting Niall with enough time to blush furiously and hate his life for a while.

 

_Hell, why did I say that…he’s probably straight too…definitely straight, who’m I kiddin’…ah, fuck._

 Niall, unfortunately, has had a crush on Zayn for approximately two years, and it’s been, on the best days, excruciating. Watching Zayn on stage was one thing, but watching his flirt shamelessly with both his band mates and fans was downright awful. Not to mention the fact that he’s kind of _engaged_ (minor details) _._ Plus, he can’t even hate Perrie because she’s adorable and super nice, and once had a burping contest with Niall that ended in a tiebreaking pizza-eating contest. Zayn was supposed to judge it, but he left halfway through to moan to Harry about how his ‘best mate and fiancée are insufferable idiots’ (they didn’t deny it) _._

Perrie’s the best, really, and she makes Zayn insanely happy, everything that Niall wishes he could do in a more _boyfriend_ way than a _best mate_ kind of way.

 

“Uh…Ni?” Niall jumps, as he’s snapped abruptly out of his inner monologue. 

 

 “Christ! When’d you get back?”

 

 “Just then, relax babes.” _Babes._

           Zayn shoves him back then so his back is pressed against the pillow, and crawls onto the bed, sitting cross-legged with Nialls leg in his lap. He presses a baggie of ice gently to his knee and immediately withdraws when Niall hisses rather loudly.

 

“Are you-“

 

 “Stop worrying and put it back, it’s just cold ya dunce.”

 

            Zayn presses it back, even lighter this time and Niall shifts to grab the telly remote, turning the television onto a random channel. The ice is helpful, but he can feel the throbbing of his knee and it kind of makes him want to cry. But he’s already done that in the privacy of the stadium bathroom, and he’d rather not cry in front of Zayn if he can help it.

 

“Love, I think you need to go to a doctor again, the swelling is awfully bad…” Zayn says, worry laced in his voice.

 

 “It’s alright, I swear, the physio guy said the swelling should go down by tomorrow as long as I ice it, and I trust him.” Zayn makes a noise of complaint instead of taking Niall’s word.

 

“Look, I’m used to it. I’ve been dealing with my wonky knee for ages, I can handle a bitta pain.”

 

 “I know…it’s just rotten that you got hit with a fucking shoe tonight, of all the fucking things.”

 

“Stop beating yourself up, it was a mistake okay, a fan got excited and wanted our attention, it was a bad throw, whatever, I’m okay with it.”

 

Zayn sighs, drained, and slips Nialls leg off of his lap to lie on his side and throw his arm over Niall’s stomach. Niall tries to ignore the damn butterflies in his stomach from the way Zayn is drawing tiny circles with his fingers on his ribs.

 

They stay like that for ages, until the bag of ice is melted again and cold water is seeping down Nialls leg and wetting the bed sheets. Zayn moves to fix it, but Niall quickly stops him, gripping his wrist tight.

 

“Zayn, go back to your room, Perrie’s probably worried that you haven’t called yet.” He tries not to sound sour, he truly does, but it just comes out tired and annoyed.

 

 “I texted her, told her I fixing you up, she’s fine.”

 

 “Okay, but you should go to bed, it’s late and we’ve got an early get up in the mornin’.”

 

 “Tryna get rid of me?”

 

 “Fuck, Zee…” He groans, throwing his head back.

 

 “Nialler, why’re you so caught up on Pez all the time?” Zayn asks, running his fingers through his flat, inky black locks.

 

He doesn’t answer, just stares.

 

“I’m gonna tell you sumthin’, kay Ni, and you gotta not get mad at me for not tellin’ you, okay?” Niall just nods, stunned.

 

 “Pez…she’s a lovely girl, and I love her a lot but… we haven’t been together for ages Ni,” Niall is shell shocked, staring at Zayn like he has three heads, “it’s the publicity, really, we’ve gotta keep the engagement going on til the tours over, then we can call it off, but-“

 

 “You absolute twat.”

 

 “I-“

 

 “No, fuck you, you fuck, I’m your best goddamn mate and you didn’t tell me the most important fucking thing ever? Christ, who’ve you told?”

 

 “Don’t get mad.”

 

 “Bit late for that, eh.”

 

 “Liam, and Lou, and Harry-“

 

 “You dick, get outta my room.” 

 

“Ni, lemme explain.”

 

“Nothing to explain, really, you’re a fucking arsehole who didn’t tell your best fucking mate that you called off your fucking _engagement_ but you’ve told the rest of the lads. Ace, Zayn, fucking ace.” Niall huffs, trying to get off the bed.

 

“I didn’t tell you ‘cause you’re the bloody reason!” Zayn yells, exasperated and breathing heavily.

 

 “I- what.” He pauses, leg half swung off the edge of the bed.

 

 “You’re the bloody reason I called off the engagement. I can’t get you out of my head, Niall, you’re everything to me, more than Perrie ever was. She was bloody brilliant, but babes, I’m- I’m fucking in love with you.”

 

“Christ-“ 

 

“Niall? I’m so-“

 

“Shut up, you arse.” Niall croaks before surging forward and pressing his lips against Zayns unbelievably soft ones. He pulls away as quickly as he kissed him, and stares Zayn down, nose to nose.

 

“You?”

 

“Have been for a while.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“Two years almost.” 

 

“We’re idiots, absolute twats.”

 

“Oi, you’re the bigger twat.” Niall pouts, nudging Zayn's nose with his own. 

 

“Soz.” Zayn mumbles before pulling Niall into him, digging his fingers into Nialls slightly damp hair.


End file.
